The Hidden Cost of a Toxic Workplace: When Your Job Changes Who You Are
A toxic workplace changes who you are by rewarding survival behaviours like political manoeuvring, aggression or emotional suppression instead of your natural values, widening the gap between your real self and your work self. Organisational psychology links this misalignment to self alienation, poor person organisation fit and emotional exhaustion that eventually spills into home life.
Why the gap between who you really are and who you need to be at work may be one of the clearest signs that it is time to leave.
I grew up on a farm, and a lot of the things that are fundamental to who I am were probably formed there. I like quiet, I like watching the sun rise and set, and I like mountains and the sea. I am naturally quite peaceful, I care deeply about people, and having grown up in an environment that was not always easy, I understand something about what it feels like to struggle. None of that makes for a particularly useful entry on a CV, although I increasingly think these are some of the most important things about me, and the strange part of the story is that for a significant portion of my career I lost sight of all of them.
1. Companies teach us how to survive
Every organisation has an operating system, and it is rarely the one printed on the wall. A company might say that collaboration matters while actually rewarding aggression, or claim to value transparency while teaching everyone that telling the truth is dangerous, or talk about people being its greatest asset while quietly celebrating the individuals who are best at politics, power and self preservation. Humans are remarkably good at adapting to these systems, and I was no exception.
I worked in environments where I learnt very quickly what survival required, which meant learning to read politics, anticipate threats, defend myself and fight when fighting was necessary, and when I encountered behaviours from people above me that I thought were unacceptable, I became extremely effective at dealing with them. The uncomfortable part of the story is that nobody forced me to become that person, because I adapted willingly and the adaptation worked, helping me survive and in many ways helping me succeed. The problem is that after enough years I could no longer easily distinguish between the person I fundamentally was and the person I had trained myself to become in order to function inside the organisation, and that distinction matters far more than I realised at the time.
2. The gap between your real self and your work self has a cost
We tend to talk about burnout as though it is simply the result of working too many hours, and sometimes that is exactly what it is, but there is another kind of exhaustion that is much harder to see, and it comes from the psychological overhead of spending every day being someone you are not.
Imagine that there are two versions of you, the first being the person you naturally are, shaped by your values, temperament, experiences and beliefs, and the second being the person your workplace requires you to become in order to succeed there. When those two people are broadly the same, work can still be brutally difficult. You can carry enormous pressure, long hours and hard problems while experiencing relatively little friction between your internal identity and your external behaviour. When those two people are very different, something else happens entirely, and every morning you pay a toll to cross from one version of yourself into the other.
You suppress things, you manufacture behaviours, and you learn which emotions are safe to show and which ones need to disappear, becoming more aggressive, political, submissive, cynical, guarded or transactional because those are the behaviours the environment rewards. What is actually happening is that you are being paid to be someone you are not, and that turns out to be expensive.
3. Psychology already has names for this
I did not have the language for any of this while I was living it, but organisational psychology certainly does. Researchers study authenticity at work, which is essentially the extent to which you can behave in a way that is consistent with who you actually are, and one of the more interesting elements of that literature is the concept of self alienation, where a person begins to feel disconnected from their own values, feelings and sense of self. In that research, self alienation turns out to be the strongest of the authenticity dimensions in predicting wellbeing and work outcomes.
There is also a substantial body of research on person organisation fit, where the idea is simple enough, because when your values and the values expressed by your environment are badly misaligned, the consequences show up in job satisfaction, commitment, strain and, eventually, the desire to leave. A third field studies emotional labour, where researchers use the term surface acting to describe situations in which people continually display emotions that differ from what they genuinely feel, and a meta analysis drawing on 95 independent studies found substantial relationships between that kind of emotional dissonance and impaired wellbeing, along with weaker job attitudes.
These concepts are usually researched separately, but read together they describe something I recognise very clearly, which is that there is a cost to pretending, and the bigger the distance between the person you are and the person your environment requires, the bigger the bill.
4. The dangerous part is that the person comes home with you
For a long time I believed I had a work personality and a home personality and that I could switch cleanly between them, but the problem is that human beings do not have an OFF command. If you spend ten or twelve hours a day teaching your brain that the world is hostile, that every conversation carries a political dimension, that vulnerability is dangerous and that you should always be anticipating the next threat, those patterns do not politely switch themselves off when you drive through your front gate.
Eventually work comes home, and you start interpreting harmless conversations through the same lens you use in the office, becoming less patient and more guarded, and finding yourself needing to win arguments that never needed winning. Perhaps you also stop doing things simply because they are fun, because somewhere along the way productivity and survival crowded them out of your vocabulary. Research describes part of this as work to family spillover, where stress and behaviour developed in one domain cross the boundary into another and affect wellbeing and relationships at home, and I know exactly what that feels like, because the work version of me started leaking into the rest of me.
5. Then something unexpected happened at Capitec
I have been at Capitec for about four years now, and one of the most profound changes in that time has had almost nothing to do with technology or banking, because I have slowly started becoming myself again.
This did not happen because anybody sat me down and told me to change, and if anything the opposite is true, because I found myself in an environment where many of the survival behaviours I had developed elsewhere simply were not useful any more, so gradually I started putting them down, and it has taken much longer than I would have imagined. Sometimes now when I drive to work I notice the mountains and I notice the sea, and I find myself looking at a sunrise and remembering that I have always loved doing exactly that. On Sunday night I took my wife out on a date, and we had fun, and nothing remarkable happened, and afterwards I found myself wondering why I had not done more of those things before. The answer made me a little sad, because some of the things I naturally enjoy had simply disappeared from my personal vocabulary and been crowded out by everything else.
6. The sadness is in the lost time
There is something painful about rediscovering yourself, because rediscovery carries an uncomfortable implication with it, which is that at some point you lost something. There are years I cannot get back, and there were evenings when the person who arrived home was carrying behaviours that had been useful somewhere else but had no place around the people I loved.
There were things I did not do, conversations I did not have, and parts of myself that became quieter than they should have been. That is difficult to acknowledge, and I think it is important to say it without turning it into regret, because noticing that you have drifted away from yourself is also the beginning of finding your way back.
7. A good organisation does not create you
This experience has changed what I believe a great organisational culture actually does, because a great company should not manufacture your personality, it should create enough safety, trust and alignment that more of your real personality can emerge.
That is not an argument against accountability, and it does not mean people are never challenged, that politics vanish entirely, or that every day at work feels comfortable, because high performance organisations can be extraordinarily demanding. But demanding work and identity conflict are two entirely different things, and the distinction is enormous, because I can finish a difficult day exhausted and still feel like myself. Today the Andrew who drives into work is much closer to the Andrew who drives home, and both of them are much closer to the husband, father and friend who exists outside the office, which for me is one of the most meaningful measures of a healthy workplace I have found.
8. Perhaps this is a better way to think about leaving a job
We normally think about changing jobs through the lens of career progression, asking whether there is more money, whether the title is better, whether we will learn more and whether there is a promotion available somewhere else. Those are all sensible questions, but I think there is another one we should be asking far more often, which is who this job is requiring me to become.
Once you have an answer, ask yourself how far that person sits from the person you actually want to be. Maybe you are becoming cynical when you are naturally optimistic, or learning to distrust everyone by default, or constantly suppressing empathy because compassion gets interpreted as weakness, or perhaps you have become combative, frightened, political or permanently defensive. Most importantly, ask whether any of those behaviours are staying at work, and then ask your partner, ask your children, and ask the people who knew you before this job did, because they can usually see the distance more clearly than you can.
9. Leaving does not have to mean resigning tomorrow
There is an obvious problem with advice that amounts to telling people to leave, which is that people have mortgages, children need school fees, families need medical aid, careers are complicated, and sometimes the salary from the job that is hurting you is also the salary holding your life together. I understand that, and it is one of the main reasons people stay.
So recognising that an environment is costing you too much does not mean you need to resign tomorrow morning, it means you need to stop pretending that staying is free, and there is an important difference between those two things. Once you have accepted the cost, finding a path out can become a genuine priority, which means you can build financial runway, develop skills, have conversations, explore other companies, interview, reduce commitments and gradually create options. You do not need to jump off a cliff, but you probably should start walking towards the exit.
10. The salary should not be purchasing pieces of you
Every job costs us something, because it costs time, it requires compromise, and it occasionally demands that we do things we would rather not do, which is simply what work is. But there is a point at which the nature of the transaction changes and the organisation is no longer merely purchasing your time and your capability, because it has started purchasing pieces of your identity, and I think that is a price worth paying close attention to.
If you are permanently exhausted and cannot explain why, if Sunday evenings feel heavier than they should, if the people closest to you keep telling you that you have changed, or if you barely recognise the person you have become at work, then do not dismiss those signals simply because the salary is good. Look at the gap between who you are and who you have to become every morning in order to survive, because sometimes the strongest reason to leave a company has nothing to do with money, promotion or career progression.
Sometimes you need to leave because you would quite like yourself back.